


In The Beginning

by MSSmysterygirl



Category: Frozen (2013)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSSmysterygirl/pseuds/MSSmysterygirl
Summary: "This is the story of a lovely queen, who wanted nothing more than to bear a child.  The queen was heartbroken for it seemed she could not do the very thing she most desired.  Until one day, she sought the help of an old witch and nine months later, a child was born..."  A story about how our beloved Elsa came to possess her ice powers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies. Thanks for clicking on this story.
> 
> I started writing this one several months ago and it sat, forgotten, in my file until one day.... (cue mysterious music)... Kidding. I hit some writers block working on a few other fics so I decided to pull this one out to play for a bit. It always irked me how, in the movie, nobody seemed the least bit surprised that Elsa had powers. How did she even get them?? They never really said. So, I decided to imagine it and voilá! This story was born. So let's see where it takes us, shall we?

**Chapter 1**

 

In the dark of the night, a slender, pale hand pressed open the heavy wooden door.  The hinges creaked and groaned and the hooded figure glanced about nervously.  Seeing no one, she pushed the door all the way open and slipped inside.  

The place smelled of dust and secrets.  There was a stout sofa with dark wooden legs and purple velvet cushions against one wall.  Two similarly styled armchairs sat a few feet across from it, a fireplace off-center on the wall perpendicular.  Embers glowed in the hearth and candles flickered on the mantle, casting an eerie glow over the room.  A doorway concealed by heavy drapes was immediately across the room from the timid woman who entered.

A raspy voice came from the shadows in the remaining corner of the room.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Your Majesty.”

The cloaked woman jumped in alarm, staring into the darkness of the corner where the voice had originated from.  “Wh-who’s there?”  Her voice was shaking despite her efforts and with trembling hands she pushed back her hood to reveal mahogany colored hair and light blue eyes.

An old woman wearing deep magenta robes moved silently from the gloom, gliding towards the royal near the door.  The old woman’s hair was pulled back into a bun, a few wisps hanging down before her eyes.  She extended a hand to the hooded woman who stood, trembling.  Rings festooned the long, crooked fingers.  “Come with me,” she rasped.  “I have what you are looking for.”

Tentatively, the brown-haired woman followed the elder through the heavy curtains at the back of the room.  She found herself in another room with furniture that resembled that of the first room, but without a fireplace.  Between the chairs and sofa stood a table with several candles burning in candleholders atop it.

“Please,” the old woman gestured to one of the chairs.  “Sit down, Your Majesty.”

“How did you know who I am?” The woman’s voice was slightly more steady now.

The old woman, who had turned to rummage through an old trunk in the corner, turned around with her eyebrows raised.  “Didn’t I mention already that I’ve been expecting you?  I’ve known for a fortnight that you’d come.”

The woman’s blue eyes closed momentarily as she realized with a jolt that it had indeed been fourteen days ago that she had first entertained the idea of coming to see this old woman.  

“The king does not know you’re here, I presume?”

Her Majesty shook her head.  “He does not.”

“Very well, Queen Iduna of Arendelle.  Please tell me how I can be of service to you.”

* * *

 

Silently, Queen Iduna made her way through the castle corridors.  The old woman’s voice played in her mind.  “ _You must make love at midnight for seven consecutive nights,”_ she had said.    “ _Your body is not meant to bear a child but with this spell you will.  You must be warned, Your Majesty, your pregnancy will not be easy.”_

_“I don’t care,”_ _Iduna had cried in desperation._   “ _I want nothing more than to be a mother, to produce an heir, but I’ve been unable to conceive for some reason…”_

_“You shall produce an heir,”_ _replied the old woman, looking deep into the queen’s eyes._ “ _But this will be no ordinary heir.  She will rule the kingdom for you one day, sooner than you may think.  Her life will be wrought with challenges, Your Highness, but a pure heart she will have.”_

_“She?”_

_“Yes, Your Majesty.  You will give birth to a little daughter almost a year to the day from your wedding anniversary.”_

December, then _, thought Iduna to herself.  It was nearly Spring now._

_“Your Majesty,” the old woman had continued, “what exactly are you willing to do to secure an heir for the royal family?”_

_“Anything!” Queen Iduna had burst out.  “I want to be a mother more than anything in the world.  I’d give anything to be pregnant.”_

_“_ Anything?” _The old woman’s eyebrows raised.  “Do you really mean that?”_

_“Y-yes,” the queen had stuttered.  “The royal family must produce an heir…”_

_The old woman was silent for a time.  Then repeated once more, “Anything?”_

_“Anything,” came the firm reply._

_“Very well.  When you have made love for seven nights, you must recite this verse on the last night.  Listen closely._

_From love most deep a child I bear,_

_To rule the kingdom, true and fair;_

_A reigning monarch kissed with grace,_

_With ice-blue eyes and a lovely face._

_Her power courses hale and strong_

_Within a world it naught belong._

_When fate aligns to bring her strife_

_Will be the hour I give my life._

In her hand, Queen Iduna clutched the piece of paper where she had hastily written down the haunting verse.  She somehow had to convince her husband, the King Agnarr of Arendelle, to make love seven nights in a row without telling him she had been to town to see the old witch.  He had scoffed when she’d suggested it weeks before and she dared not bring it up again.

Reaching her bedchambers and quietly slipping out of her cloak and dress, the queen pulled her modest nightgown over her head and crawled into bed beside her husband.  It wasn’t common practice for married royalty to sleep in the same bed together, but Iduna and Agnarr were indeed very much in love and neither of them really wanted to sleep alone.  Iduna always made sure to muss up her sheets in her private bedchamber early in the morning before the servants went to wake her to make it look as though she’d slept there.  She always awoke before the sun anyway.

Closing her eyes, she visualized the scrap of paper with the verse written on it.  _From love most deep…_ and Queen Iduna of Arendelle drifted off to sleep with the words running endlessly through her mind.

* * *

 

For seven nights after the queen snuck out of the castle, two bodies came together in the royal bedchamber.  Hips rocked, hands wandered, lips met and words swirled around like petals on the wind.  Shuddered breaths and desperate cries built to a crescendo as sweet release was finally found.  

Eight nights after meeting with the old woman, Queen Iduna found herself back in her private bedchamber for the first time in weeks, a crumpled piece of paper in her shaking hand.  In a voice trembling with the knowledge that life as she knew it was about to change, she spoke the words as the old woman had instructed.

“ _From love most deep a child I bear_ ,” she began, and as the words formed so did an unseasonably chilly breeze.  It flapped the curtains and rustled the tassels on the bedposts.  The candle on the nightstand flickered.  “ _To rule the kingdom, true and fair_.”

The window burst open and a blast of freezing air whirled around the queen, yet her voice didn’t falter.  “ _A reigning monarch kissed with grace, with ice-blue eyes and a lovely face._ ”  Her voice grew stronger with each passing word.  The wind fairly howled around the room and Iduna felt small, cold flecks hitting her face.  _Snow?_   She couldn’t fathom it but kept speaking.

_“Her power courses hale and strong_ ,” Iduna intoned, her voice rising above the wind.  Snow flurries erupted both inside and outside the castle walls.  “ _Within a world it naught belong._ ”  The candle blew out in the maelstrom and the fire in the hearth was dying by the second.  

Iduna knew she had to finish the spell.  “ _When fate aligns to bring her strife_ ,” she bellowed as a full-on blizzard erupted.  An ethereal blue glow surrounded her.  She heard the shouts from other rooms in the castle as people hurried to close the shutters and block the undersides of doors.

Finally at the end of the spell, the queen mustered her strength and _shouted,_ “ _will be the hour I give my LIFE!”_

With a mighty roar the storm blew itself out, throwing the room into darkness.  A shocking cold sensation hit the queen, doubling her over, hands clasped to her belly.  Her mouth opened but no sound came out.  The icy feeling spread through her veins, making her feel as though she was being frozen from the inside out.  Wordlessly, the queen stumbled to her bed and fell into a heap on the snow covered blankets, the darkness mercifully overtaking her.

Minutes later, King Agnarr opened the door to his wife’s private chambers, candle in hand.  Quickly striding across the room, the king firmly closed the window and pulled the drapes.  A gentle smile pulled across his face at the sight of his wife, slender and pale and always beautiful to him, sleeping peacefully on her back in her bed with her hand resting gently on her belly and a small smile on her face.  The king lit the fire in the queen’s hearth once more and kissed her gently on her forehead.  “Good night, my love,” he whispered, and then he was gone.

* * *

 

“Are you quite well, Your Majesty?”  One of the castle servants hovered anxiously in front of Queen Iduna’s face as she sat in a chair in her bedchamber.  “You are looking very pale.”

“I’m always pale,” Iduna smiled weakly.  “I’m quite all right, thank you.”

“I shall fetch the doctor if it is your bidding, My Queen.  You need only tell me.”

“Thank you,” Iduna said again, trying to smile reassuringly.  The truth was she felt terrible, but nobody knew she was expecting yet.  It had only been a week since she’d spoken the verse and the storm had happened; too early to know she was pregnant.  Except she _did_ know.  She just _felt_ it.  

After dismissing the servant, Iduna laid her hands on her still-flat abdomen.  She leaned down, curling over herself.  “Hello, little baby,” she cooed, feeling foolish.  “I know you’re in there.  I…I hope you’re doing okay.”  _How silly,_ the queen thought to herself, yet she kept talking.  “I love you already, my sweet little girl.  How strange to think I already know just about when your birthday will be.  A winter baby.”

The queen leaned back, smiling despite her fatigue.  Yes, this would be an unusual pregnancy, she was sure of it.  An unusual pregnancy that came about in an unusual way.  But it was necessary.  There was no one else to produce an heir - King Agnarr was an only child and she had married into the family.

Suddenly, a shiver raced down the queen’s spine.  She felt her fingers and toes instantly become cold.  She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, shuddering.  There was no breeze, she noticed, so what had made her cold?  Teeth chattering, Iduna stood up from her chair and made her way to the vanity and glanced in the mirror.  Her eyes widened in shock.  Her lips were a purple-blue color and her face was drained of all flush.

Weakly, she retreated to her bed and crawled beneath the covers fully dressed.  There she huddled, shivering violently for several minutes.  All she could think about was how unbelievably _cold_ she was.  Slowly the sensation began to pass and feeling returned to her extremities.  The whole thing left her feeling very nervous.  However, the queen had never been pregnant before, nor had she really known anyone who had.  _Perhaps that’s a normal side-effect of early pregnancy,_ she mused, pushing herself out of bed.  Distraction would be her friend in this situation, she decided, and went about her duties.

* * *

 

Three weeks later, the king and queen were sitting in the dining hall having breakfast.  Queen Iduna had found it increasingly difficult to hide her misery from her husband and the castle staff.  She had confided only in one of her handmaids when she had found the queen vomiting profusely in the bathroom one morning when she came to draw the queen’s bath.  Her nausea was getting out of hand, though, and the queen knew it wouldn’t be long before her husband would catch on.

“So the trade routes are all up for discussion,” King Agnarr was saying.  He waved his fork around as he spoke and the sight of the thinly sliced salmon flopping through the air was making Iduna’s stomach roll like the ocean during a tempest.  She laid her fork down and gazed into her lap, willing her insides to settle.  “I’ve sent letters to Weselton, Corona and Idria and am in the process of… My dear?  Are you all right?”

King Agnarr’s green eyes widened in concern as he took in the sight of his wife.  Her face had drained of color and her lips had turned a worrisome shade of blue.  Her whole body was trembling.  “I’m c-cold,” she whispered weakly before slumping in her chair.  

“Help!” The king cried, leaping out of his chair, his fork clattering onto the plate unceremoniously.  “Someone help!”  He rushed around the table to his wife’s chair, gathering her into his arms and standing there, clueless as to what to do.  Several staff members ran into the dining hall after hearing the king’s shout.  One rushed right back out to fetch the palace physician.

“Agnarr,” the weak voice from the woman in his arms snapped his attention down.  “The… baby.  Th-the baby…”

Confused, the king knitted his eyebrows together.  “The baby?  What baby?  Do you mean… _Iduna?_   Are you with child?”

The pale brunette smiled wanly.  “Yes, love.  And she’ll be lovely.”  And with that, the queen fell unconscious again.  

King Agnarr was at once elated and epically confused.  As he looked down at his lovely wife, he felt a great fear grip him as he realized just how ice cold the woman in his arms was.  Her lips were parted slightly and her breath puffed out in a shower of ice crystals.  The king’s arms tightened around his wife.  _So she’s with child,_ he thought.  _Finally we’ll be parents.  Finally we’ll have an heir._

Within the hour, the palace physician had confirmed the pregnancy, although he was at a loss to explain the extreme temperature changes the queen was experiencing.  He stated that it was not, as far as he was aware, a common complication of pregnancy but he couldn’t produce an explanation.  The physician and the king chalked it up to an anomaly with the queen’s pregnancy.  The queen, however, had a suspicion.

After the physician left and the king had returned to his royal duties, the queen begged off to her bedchambers and requested to be left alone to rest.  As soon as she was alone, she threw back the covers.  She had no intention of resting. 


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2 **

 

Keeping to the shadows, Queen Iduna of Arendelle made her way through the castle corridors.  She waited behind a suit of armor for the front hall to clear, then rushed out the castle doors and through the courtyard.  Doing this in broad daylight was risky, she knew, but she couldn’t wait another moment.  She had to know the answer, and she had to know it _now._

Within minutes, Queen Iduna was in front of the now-familiar heavy wooden door, fist raised to knock.  Before she could make contact, however, the door swung open and the old woman was beckoning her in.  “Come in, My Queen, come in.”

As soon as the door shut behind her, the queen demanded, “ _What_ is going on with my baby?”  Her blue eyes were sparkling with fury.  “What did you do to her?”

The old woman settled into a chair, regarding the queen with obvious amusement.  “Why, Your Majesty,” she rasped.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to!”

“Like hell you don’t!” Iduna snapped.  “Not only did you know I was coming a week ago, but you knew what I was coming here _for._   And you knew I was here now before I could even knock!  So don’t you try to tell me that you don’t know why I’m here today!”

The old woman steepled her hands together before her twitching lips.  “All right, Your Majesty.  I will answer your questions.”

“Why am I getting cold spells?”

“Did I not warn you that your pregnancy would be challenging, My Queen?”

Iduna flushed.  “Stop answering questions with questions.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”  The old woman smiled, not unkindly.  “I had to call upon a certain kind of magic in order to ensure the spell I gave you would produce an heir.”

“A certain kind of _magic?”_   The queen lowered herself shakily onto the edge of the sofa opposite the old woman.  “Wh-what kind of magic would that be?”

“Do not fear.  It is not dark magic.”  The old woman waved her hand dismissively, her numerous bracelets jangling on her wrist.  “When a person is asking such a huge favor of the fates, a fee must be paid.”

“A fee?” Iduna didn’t like the sound of that.  “What sort of fee?”

“Well…” The old woman’s voice trailed off and Iduna thought she could see a trace of something in her eyes.  Could it be sadness?  “You did say you were willing to give _anything_ for a child.”

A flash of fear shot through the queen.  Her head spun momentarily and she gripped the sofa cushions tightly.  Closing her eyes with resignation, the queen mustered her voice and spoke.  “My life?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.  Your life.”

“Am I going to die in childbirth?”  The question burst forth from the queen’s mouth before she had time to think about whether or not she really wanted to know the answer.  

“I don’t know, My Queen,” the old hag responded.  “Only fate knows.  The verse said that when the fates align to bring strife to your daughter will be the hour of your death.”

Queen Iduna thought about that for a moment.  “So you mean I am going to die when my daughter needs me the most?”

The gray head nodded sorrowfully.  “It seems that way, Your Majesty.”

The queen sighed, pinched her eyes closed and laid back against the couch cushions.  “Gods almighty,” she murmured.  “Why didn’t I pay closer attention to that verse before I said it?”  She rubbed her hands over her face.  “Then again, if this was the only way…”

“The only way I could see, My Queen.”

“But you never answered my question about the cold spells.”

“Ah, yes.  The magic.”  The old woman smiled again.  “You see, Your Majesty, the kind of magic I called upon is a very strong, very unique kind of magic.  Do you remember what the weather was like the night you first came here?”

The queen visualized that night in her mind.  “Yes, it was snowing a little.”

“That’s right.  You know there’s nothing more powerful than nature, do you not?”

“Yes, I do.  Nothing can stop a storm when it decides to come.”

The old woman nodded.  “Quite true, Your Majesty, quite true.  And now nothing can stop your daughter from coming, either.”  The old woman’s snapping eyes met the queen’s and a wide smile spread across her wrinkled face.  “Do you see now, My Queen?”

Iduna bit her lip.  “You… you harnessed the magic of the _snow?”_

Delightedly, the old woman clapped her hands and laughed.  “Indeed I did!”

Queen Iduna felt dizzy.  “So my d-daughter will have snow powers?”

Another happy nod.

“No… No!”

“What is it, Your Highness?  The verse did say she’d have power…”

Eyes blazing, the queen jumped to her feet.  “I didn’t think you meant _real_ power!  I thought you just meant she’d be a powerful ruler of the kingdom one day!”

“She _will!”_ Insisted the witch.  “But not just one kind of powerful.  She will be respected and revered!”

The queen was speechless.  All she had wanted was a _baby._ A normal heir, half her and half her husband.  She didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, she just wanted to be a mother.  But now… now her sweet baby would have to deal with a lifetime of being misunderstood.  All because her body had betrayed her and made her unable to conceive naturally.

“I have to go,” the queen muttered, bolting for the door.

“Prepare yourself, Your Majesty!  It has only just begun!”

The eerie cackling of the witch followed her all the way down the street.

* * *

 

King Agnarr of Arendelle was furious.  When his lovely wife had told him what she had done… well… no question, he was livid.  Everyone in the city knew that the old woman had dark powers that ought not be fooled around with.  Most people, except the strange, gave the old woman a wide berth.  And here Queen Iduna had _sought her out_.  

Sighing, the king ran his hands through his reddish blonde hair, digging his nails into his scalp.  He paced back and forth in his study. 

“Everything all right, Your Majesty?”  The voice made Agnarr jump.  It was Kai, his most trusted staff member.  

The king sighed again.  “Yes.  Well, maybe.”

“May I be of service somehow, Majesty?”  Kai always did know how to pry gently.

“You know you can call me Agnarr when it’s just us, Kai.  We are friends, even though the rest of the staff need not know that.”

“Yes, I know.  Can I be of service somehow, Agnarr?”  Kai knew the king better than anyone except maybe the queen and he could tell something was greatly troubling him.  “Maybe just getting it off your chest will help.”

The king dropped unceremoniously into the chair behind his desk and motioned for Kai to come in and close the door.  “What would you do, Kai, if someone who trusted wholeheartedly did something that you thought to be very, very… ah… foolish.  And now, because of what they’ve done, there is a great deal of uncertainty and potentially danger at hand?”

Kai leaned against the wall beside the door and thought momentarily.  “Are we talking hypothetically, Agnarr?  Or are we actually in danger?”

“I don’t know, that’s just it.”  Agnarr pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I’m not sure _what_ exactly I’m dealing with here.  I can’t really go into detail.  Suffice it to say it may be… _otherworldly.”_

“Otherworldly?” Kai repeated, his eyebrows rising quickly.  “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

The king stood up and strode over to the window.  Hands clasped behind his back, he stared out into the dusk for at least half a minute, contemplating, saying nothing.  Finally, without turning around, he spoke: “You know the witch in the village?”

“The old hag?”

“The very one.”

“Why yes, I know of her, Your Maj— Agnarr.  Why?”

King Agnarr faced his friend.  “My wife has sought her services to help her conceive a child.”

Kai said nothing for several seconds, caught off guard by the king’s statement.  He had known Iduna for well over a decade, surely she wouldn’t have done such a thing.  Kai said as much to the king now.  “Surely she wouldn’t have done _that!”_

“She did,” said the king, his lips pursed.  He stared resignedly at the rug.  “And now, apparently, the baby will have the power to control ice and snow.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I think I need to sit down.”  Kai found his way to one of the straight-backed chairs that faced Agnarr’s desk and lowered himself dazedly into it.  “The power to control _snow,_ Majesty?”

“It’s Agnarr, Kai, and yes.  Evidently.”  The king crossed the room and poured two stiff drinks, handing one to his friend.  “Don’t mention this to anyone.  The drink _or_ the snow powers.”

“No, I won’t,” Kai promised, downing the amber liquid in two swallows.  “So what are you going to do?  Will the queen be all right?  Will the _child_ be all right?”

King Agnarr sighed and sloshed his drink.  “There’s not really anything I _can_ do, at this point.  She’s already with child.  All I can do is hope and pray that all turns out well.  Heaven knows I was nervous enough about becoming a parent to a regular child, to say nothing of becoming a parent to a child with magical powers!”  The king barked a laugh at the absurdity of his last statement.

Kai gazed at his friend fondly.  “I know, Majes— _Agnarr,_ sorry — but I also know that you excel at every task you put your mind to.  You’ve been that way as long as I’ve known you, which is most of your life.  You rise to every occasion and there is no doubt in my mind that you will make a fantastic father.  To _any_ child.”

* * *

 

The soft blue eyes of the queen stared into the mirror.  She was showing, no doubt about it.  It would be impossible to conceal this pregnancy much longer.  It was time, she reasoned, to announce to the public that there would be an heir to the Arendelle throne.  But at what cost?  Iduna had not told Agnarr of the prophecy hidden within the verse she had recited — the prophecy that she would give her life in the hour when her daughter needed her the most.  She couldn’t be sure if that prophecy extended to the king as well, but she fervently hoped it did not.  She figured that the child having snow and ice powers was enough of a shock for her husband and opted not to tell him the rest.

By her calculations, she was just about six months shy of giving birth.  The witch had said the child would be born nearly one year to the day from their wedding anniversary, which was December nineteenth.  A few days in either direction put the baby’s birth between the seventeenth and twenty-first of December.  _My little winter girl,_ the queen thought, smiling fondly.  She ran her hands lovingly over the swell of her stomach.

Her hands came away cold.  

Shocked, Iduna gathered up her skirts and pulled them up to inspect her belly.  It _looked_ normal, but the skin was icy cold to the touch.  _Why can’t I feel that?_   She mused.  It would seem that if her skin were really that cold that it would be at least slightly uncomfortable, but she hadn’t even noticed until her hands had felt the icy sensation right through the fabric of her dress.  

Without warning, the queen’s stomach rolled unpleasantly.  This was morning sickness, she knew, and it wasn’t something she was unaccustomed to, having dealt with this for several weeks now.  Iduna closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose, letting out through her mouth a moment later with a noticeable ‘ahhh’.  It did little to relieve the nausea but succeeded in steadying her spinning head.

“Are you well, my love?”  Agnarr’s voice from the doorway startled the brunette, causing her to jump a little.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m well,” she responded, albeit untruthfully.  “Just… maybe a little unsteady.”

“You do look pale,” the king agreed, approaching his wife and placing his hand on the small of her back.  “Come sit down a minute.”

Iduna allowed her husband to lead her over to the wing-backed chair in the corner of the room, lowering herself slowly into it.  “I’m showing,” she mentioned.  Her hands came to rest on her belly.  “We must announce the pregnancy soon.”

“Indeed,” King Agnarr said absently, his eyes roaming his wife’s midsection.  “I must admit, despite my initial, ah, _reservations_ about the nature of this pregnancy, the condition is becoming of you.”

Iduna actually laughed.  “Oh, please,” she scoffed.  “I look terrible.”

The tall monarch smiled lovingly.  “On the contrary, you have never looked as beautiful.”

The queen’s smile turned soft.  She clasped her hands in her lap.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she half-whispered, unable to look her husband in the eye.  “I just didn’t know what else to do.  I wanted to be a mother so badly…”  Her voice trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like fog.  After several seconds she added, “please, forgive me.”

“I already have, my love.”  The king stooped to press a light kiss to his wife’s hairline.  “I already have.  Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.  As we always do.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Frozen or any of that jazz. :) Just mentioning. Also, when I look at this story on my computer or phone, it appears that it's having a weird glitch or something and putting the same author's note at the end of each chapter. I go back to try and fix it and it's not there, so please just ignore the repetitive AN at the end (if you're even seeing it.)

The kingdom reacted favorably to the news, as both King and Queen knew would be the case.  For obvious reasons, they did not disclose the magical nature of the conception nor the fact that the child would have magical powers.  They didn’t even fully understand it themselves, so how could they expect everyone else to come to terms with it? 

The next few months passed by, slowly for Queen Iduna and rapidly for King Agnarr.  The summer months were always busy for the royal family — lots of trading, visiting dignitaries and the like.  Queen Iduna learned her body’s signs and was sometimes able to foresee a temperature fluctuation before it happened and retreat to her chambers so as not to alarm any guests when she suddenly turned pale and shivered violently.

One such occasion happened in mid-August, when the Queen was about five months into the pregnancy.  Her lips had suddenly become tingly during a stroll through the gardens with the Coronan ambassador, and she had quickly excused herself.  No sooner had she shut herself into her chambers than her lips turned blue and her whole body wracked with shivers.  Teeth chattering, she climbed under her covers and waited.  

The child within her thrashed powerfully during these episodes, and this one was no exception.  Queen Iduna laid her hand on her belly and spoke soothingly to the baby inside.  “Shh, love,” she crooned.  “I know these episodes are unpleasant for you, too.  It’s almost over now, see?  It’s already subsiding.”  As feeling came back into her extremities and the violent shivering slowed, the baby’s movements also calmed.  “There, now,” Iduna smiled.  “It’s over.  We’re okay.”

Climbing out of bed, the Queen approached the window.  She looked out over the castle grounds.  “All of this will be yours one day.”  The baby gave a soft kick as though acknowledging her mother’s words.  “I don’t know what trials and tribulations your life will hold, my darling, but I know for sure that as long as I’m living, you won’t want for love.”  

Tears brimmed in the Queen’s eyes.  

“I can’t promise you much,” she whispered, lovingly caressing her belly.  “But love?  I can promise you love.”

* * *

 

It was early on a Wednesday morning in the first week of October, and the King and Queen of Arendelle were alone in the royal study.  King Agnarr rested his elbow on the arm of his high-backed chair, massaging his right temple while flipping through pages in a book with his free hand.  

Across the room, Iduna was curled up (as much as one can _curl_ with a belly in the way) on the light green sofa, also flipping through a book.  She spoke suddenly, her voice contemplative.  “What shall we name the child?”

“Beg pardon?” Agnarr looked up from his work.

“What shall we name the child, Agnarr?”  Iduna closed her book and set it aside, turning gentle eyes to her husband.  “We have only about two months until she’s born.  She’s going to need a name.”

Agnarr stared off to his left, gazing out the window into the foggy fall morning.  Arendelle was one of the lucky places that got all four seasons, and fall was one of King Agnarr’s favorites.  “And we know for sure it will be a girl?”

“Yes.  The witch said it will be a girl.”

“Should we go with a family name?  The tradition has long been to name the firstborn after the King’s family.”

The Queen nodded quietly.  “I suppose we should.  Does it have to be one of your parents’ names?”

“I don’t think so,” Agnarr frowned.  “Not necessarily.  I think it just has to be a family name.”  He gave a short laugh.  “I don’t know!  I’ve not looked up the rules!”

Iduna laughed lightly.  “Well, I think you’d remember if it were set in stone.  Who are you named after?”

“An uncle, I think.”

The Queen placed a hand on her swollen belly as she felt the tiny child inside give a particularly sharp kick.  “Then it stands to reason that it doesn’t have to be the name of one of your parents — in this case, your mother.”

Both monarchs were quiet for several minutes, mulling over their task.  Naming a person was a big deal no matter which way one looked at it.  It was the name everyone who ever came into contact with the person would know them by; it would ring out through households and streets, be heralded and spoken lovingly, one could only hope.  In the case of Agnarr and Iduna, it was even more nerve-wracking, knowing that this child would grow up to be Queen of Arendelle one day and the entire kingdom would know and speak her name.

Agnarr’s mother’s name had been Audhild.  It wasn’t a name Iduna much cared for, although she had liked the late queen very much.  When she learned from the old witch that the child she would bear would be a girl, Iduna had feared that they would have to name her after Agnarr’s mother, so she was very much relieved to find out that this wasn’t necessarily the case.  If Agnarr had insisted upon it, Iduna would have acquiesced.  It didn’t seem, however, that he was leaning that direction.

Iduna tried to think back to any of Agnarr’s other female family members that she had either met or heard of.  He’d had a cousin who had ended up being the Duchess of someplace-or-other (Iduna couldn’t remember exactly).  Her name also escaped Iduna, although she seemed to remember it being something like Astrid or Astra.  Aside from her and of course Agnarr’s aunt, Princess Tyri, who was infamous in Iduna’s mind for having narcolepsy, there wasn’t anyone else coming to mind.

King Agnarr had been thoughtfully stroking his mustache, staring into space for several seconds.  Suddenly, he burst into action, striding purposefully across the room to the large bookshelf that took up one entire wall.  He climbed a small ladder, removed several books and reached far back into the depths of the shelf.

“What are you looking for?” The Queen asked as her husband rummaged around, elbow deep in the recesses of the shelving unit.

The King didn’t answer.  After a moment, he pulled out what appeared to be a small, leather bound journal.  Not moving from his position on the fourth step of the ladder, he unwound the thin strap holding the book closed.  A puff of dust plumed up from within the book when he opened it, making stately King Agnarr twitch his nose to hold in a sneeze.  

Iduna held in a titter, remaining quiet as she waited for an explanation.

After several silent moments, Agnarr’s facial features softened and his mouth pulled into a smile beneath his reddish-blonde mustache.  His eyes darted back and forth as he read several lines.

“So,” King Agnarr said at last, “I’ve never mentioned this to you, but we aren’t the first royal couple to have fertility problems.”  Agnarr closed the book with a _thwap!_ and tucked it under his arm, descending the ladder one rung at a time.  He crossed the room and sat down beside his wife.  “My grandparents had several failed pregnancies before my grandmother managed to carry a baby to term.  My father, who remembers being told by his nanny, said that everything had been going fine, until one day just before the baby was to be born, my grandmother felt the baby stop kicking.”

Iduna gasped, instinctively laying her hands protectively across her belly.  She felt their child give several reassuring kicks to the palms of her hands.

“The child was stillborn a week later.”  Agnarr blinked sadly.  “It was a little girl, the nanny said, and she was beautiful.  My grandmother could hardly part with the child, and she sobbed for weeks afterwards.  They all loved her so, but the nanny said she was just too perfect for this world.”

It took Queen Iduna several seconds to find her voice, and when she did, it was unsteady.  She licked her dry lips and, pressing her hand to the spot where their daughter was jabbing repeatedly under her skin, asked the question: “Wh-what was her name?”

The King smoothed his hand over the journal, leaving a handprint in the dust.

“Else.”

* * *

 

As the weeks passed by, the unborn child grew rapidly and as a result, the queen’s belly became more and more distended.  The child’s kicks grew stronger and more powerful, as did the early winter storms that came to Arendelle.

Everyone except for the king and queen shrugged it off as an unusually early start to winter.  Mother Nature was just full of surprises and it wasn’t the first time they’d had snow dumped on them before the first of November.  

But the royal pair knew better.  This was no ordinary early winter — this was _magic._

The queen was prone to sudden dizzy spells, temperature fluctuations and mood swings, not unlike early pregnancy.  But this time, when she would have an episode, the outside weather would react.  One Thursday morning, Iduna shook so violently with cold, crying out in pain and lips and fingertips blue, that by the time her body returned to homeostasis, a foot of snow had fallen on the kingdom.  Another time, the mild-mannered queen got so uncharacteristically angry over the wrong kind of biscuits being served with her tea that the winds howled for nearly an hour, snapping shutters off houses in the village and damaging ships in the harbor.

King Agnarr feared for the safety of his wife and his kingdom but most of all, his child.  Over the past several months he had grown rather fond of the little thing wiggling and kicking away in his wife’s belly.  The little girl seemed to react to his voice when he’d put his face up close to the queen’s belly and speak.  Little flutters and jabs would follow his hand when he’d press on different places, almost as though she were chasing him.  It warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t known was possible.

What were these spells doing to the little princess growing within his beloved wife?  Was she all right?  The palace doctor had eventually been let in on the secret, and he was the first to admit he’d never tended to a magical pregnancy before in all his years of medicine.  All he could do was try to make sure both mother and child were as healthy as could be in any way he could.  

“The baby is kicking soundly,” Doctor Larsen told King Agnarr on the seventh of November, his hand that was pressed against the side of Queen Iduna’s belly visibly jumping as the child proved his point for him.  “From what I can tell, all seems to be well at this time.  The Queen’s pulse is strong, not thready, and her respirations are normal.  Her temperature is also normal, although I’m not sure how long that will last.  Her episodes are getting more frequent the closer she gets to delivery.”

Agnarr sighed.  “That’s as good a report as I could hope for at the moment.”  The King glanced out the window, noting that the weather was calm.  He hoped this meant that his dear wife would have some respite from episodes for at least the rest of the morning if not the whole day.  “Thank you, Doctor.”

After the kindly physician took his leave, Queen Iduna sat up on the couch she’d been reclining on.  “How are you doing, my love?” She asked her husband.

King Agnarr lowered himself down beside his wife.  He took her small, soft hand in his big, warm one.  “Despite my worry and trepidation, I am well.  Excited, even.”  A childlike sparkle appeared in Agnarr’s eyes.  “Whom do you think the child will resemble?”

The Queen gazed lovingly at her handsome husband.  “I don’t care about looks.  She could look like you and I’d be happy, or she could look like me and I’d be equally as happy.  What I care about is what’s in _here,”_ Iduna tapped her temple, “and in _here,”_ and her heart.  

“I want her to have your steadfastness and maybe a touch of your stubbornness.  I want her to have my patience, because I have more of it than you,” Iduna teased, laughing quietly.  “But I want her to have your perseverance.”

The King laid his hand gently over his wife’s where it rested atop their child who would be born in just over a month.  “I want her to love her kingdom fiercely and for the kingdom to love her back,” he whispered.

“She will, Agnarr.  I know she will.”

“How do you know that?”

Iduna bit her lip.  “It was in the prophecy.”

“What prophecy?”

“The one the old witch gave me.  It said she’d rule the kingdom truly and fairly.  The people will love a queen who is true and fair.”

Agnarr nodded.  “Yes, I suppose they will.”

A beat passed.

“Did that prophecy say anything else about her?”

Iduna’s mind whirled.  Should she tell him?  Should she keep it to herself?  The prophecy never expressly stated whether or not the King of Arendelle would have to give his life along with the Queen of Arendelle.  She could die in childbirth or by an illness, neither of which would necessarily involve her husband.  She chewed on her lower lip for several seconds, debating.  Finally, she said, “No.  Nothing else about her as a queen.  It did say she would have blue eyes, though, and that she would be lovely.”

“Like her mother,” Agnarr said, and leaned in to kiss his wife.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

By mid-November, winter had started in earnest.  People darted about the villages and through the city center on horse-drawn sleighs, bells jingling merrily and happy voices calling.  The castle was decorated early for Jul.  Everyone knew the baby was due right around Christmastime, and in honor of the soon-to-be-born heir, the decorations were the most extravagant the kingdom had seen in years.

No one but Agnarr, Iduna, a few maids and the doctor knew that the baby was a girl and already had a name.  The maids had been let in on it because they were helping to decorate the baby’s nursery, and Iduna had requested varying shades of purple and pink, accented with gold and sea foam green.  The queen spent many happy hours just sitting in her daughter’s nursery, day dreaming.  Even the baby herself seemed at peace in the room; rarely did she kick when Iduna was in there and never once did Iduna have an episode while sitting in the nursery.  She took that as a good omen.

“Are you anxious, my Queen?” Asked one of the maids one day in December as she helped brush out Queen Iduna’s long, beautiful hair.  

“Anxious about the child?”

 

“Yes.  The waiting was the hardest part for me,” the maid confessed.  Iduna was such a kind queen that she allowed her servants to converse somewhat freely with her in private.  “I didn’t know when the labor pains would start and I was on edge for so many days.”

Queen Iduna smiled.  She knew that Tove, the maid, had two children — a boy and a girl.  The younger one was just over three years old now.  The queen had allowed Tove to bring her two children to the midsummer festival on the castle grounds just the past year.  The little boy was quiet and somber, with big brown eyes just like his mother’s.  The little girl was vivacious and energetic with light brown curls and the same big eyes as her brother.

“I don’t have a need to be anxious,” Iduna confessed.  “I know just about when my child’s birth day will be.  The old witch told me the child would be born almost a year to the day of my wedding anniversary.”

The maid gasped.  “December nineteenth is your wedding anniversary!”

“That’s right.  So by my guess, the child’s birthday will be either the seventeenth, eighteenth, twentieth or twenty-first.  Since the witch said _nearly_ a year to the day, not _on_ the day.  That means she could be born as soon as four days from now!”  

The realization that it was indeed December thirteenth already struck Iduna like a bolt of lightning.  She felt butterflies burst to life in her tummy.  The adrenaline rush must have alerted the baby, as she immediately began moving and poking her elbows and knees into Iduna’s ribs and lungs.

“Are you nervous about the birth, Your Majesty?”  Tove asked, winding the queen’s hair into a long braid.

Queen Iduna wrung her hands together.  “A bit,” she admitted.  “If the pregnancy has been any indication, the birth will not be easy.  I admit I’m a bit afraid of… of…” She let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of whether or not she should continue. 

“Afraid of what, Your Majesty?”  Tove pried gently.  She had worked for the royal family for long enough to know that if Queen Iduna didn’t want to say anything, she wouldn’t have started that train of thought at all.  She began wordlessly twisting the queen’s long braid into an elegant bun at the back of her head.

“Tove, can I tell you something in confidence?”  The queen turned around before Tove could finish the hairstyle, the braid falling loose from the bun and dropping down over her left shoulder.  “You must tell no one — not even His Majesty.  _Especially_ not His Majesty.”

Tove nodded silently.  

“When I went to see the old witch, she told me my body wasn’t meant to bear children.  She told me she harnessed the power of the snow to ensure that the pregnancy would take and hold.  She told me… she told me that when someone asks such a favor of the fates that there’s a price to pay.”  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “The old witch gave me a verse to say and it warned that, in order to produce an heir, that I would pay with my life.”

Tove’s hands flew to her mouth and she gasped.

The queen’s beautiful blue eyes brimmed with tears.  “It said that the time when my daughter needs me the most will be when my life will end.  I don’t know when that will be,” the queen all but wailed.  “It could be at the time of her birth or any time after!”

The maid leaned against the vanity in front of which the queen sat.  “And His Majesty doesn’t know about this?”

“He knows about the verse and the witch but he doesn’t know about that part of the prophecy,” Iduna said sadly.  “I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.  The snow powers were hard enough to come to terms with, I just couldn’t…”

After a half minute pause, Tove said, “Your Majesty, if I may give you my take on it…”

“Please.”

Taking a liberty, Tove placed her hand on the queen’s shoulder.  “Everyone is going to die one day, My Queen.  Unless a person plans to expedite that process on their own, no one can ever really know when they’ll die.  It’s entirely possible that you could die in childbirth, not because of the prophecy but because birthing children is dangerous.  Your daughter will need you as long as she lives, so to say that you’ll die at the time when she needs you _most_ isn’t really saying much.”  Tove thought for another few seconds.  “To me, the prophecy isn’t saying anything a person doesn’t already know.  You are the queen of the kingdom, everyone will always need you.  Living forever is impossible, though.”

Queen Iduna had never thought of it that way before.  Tove’s words were wise and calmed her heart.  As heir to the throne, it was unlikely that the time the little princess would need her mother the very most was the hour of her birth.  Surely much more stressful and challenging times lay ahead of the young monarch.  

“You are right, Tove,” Iduna smiled at her maid.  “I am so glad I confided in you.  Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, Your Majesty.  Now.  Let’s finish getting you ready for breakfast.  King Agnarr will be waiting.  And, after all, you won’t have many more meals together for just the two of you, if you know what I mean!”

* * *

 

The mornings of December seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth dawned clear and cold.  The sun shone down strong, but cast no warmth on the kingdom.  Queen Iduna had begun to feel a connection and familiarity with the weather and each of those mornings she knew deep within herself that the child would not come that day.  

When she awoke on the morning of December twenty-first, she pushed the covers off and immediately padded over to the window.  She pulled the curtains aside and her breath caught in her chest, for she knew instantly that this would be her child’s birth day.  Gray, swirling clouds hung ominously over the land, as though gathering their strength to unleash their power.

In an instant, two things happened.  The first thing was that the queen felt a massive gush of liquid burst forth from her body, cascading down her legs and puddling on the floor under her nightdress.  The second thing that happened was that the sky opened up, snow began swirling and the wind positively _howled._   

“Agnarr!” Iduna cried weakly, gripping the window ledge.  “Wake up!”

The king sat up abruptly.  “Wh-what’s going on?”  His eyes were bleary with sleep and his hair stuck up at odd angles.

“Get the doctor.”  

Queen Iduna had never seen her husband move so fast.

The doctor arrived within minutes, although the queen could have sworn an hour or more had passed.  Pains had begun abruptly, one after the other, causing the queen to cry out and it took all the strength she had just to crawl back onto the bed.  The doctor checked the queen over quickly, using a stethoscope to listen to her heart and lungs.

“No obvious signs of infection,” Doctor Larsen stated.  “This is good.”

“Very good,” Agnarr agreed nervously.

When the doctor laid the stethoscope on Iduna’s belly, it jumped visibly and the doctor winced as the sound no doubt assaulted his ear drums.  “Baby appears to be doing fine, as well,” the doctor quickly removed the earpieces.  

Pulling King Agnarr aside, the doctor whispered, “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I’m not sure how to proceed.  Given the fact that this hasn’t been a typical pregnancy, I daresay it’s unlikely that it’ll be a typical birth, either.”

Iduna let out a low-pitched moan from the bed, causing both men to snap their heads in her direction.

“Will she be all right?” The king asked, an unusual amount of worry evident in his green eyes.

“I should think so, Your Majesty,” Doctor Larsen assured.  “Females of all species, save for one or two, have been bearing children since the dawn of time.  Her Majesty is strong.  I see no reason why she won’t be able to do as her mother before her and _her_ mother before her, and so on.”

Agnarr glanced at his beloved wife, curled around her swollen belly, her face twisted in pain.  “The witch said the baby would be queen, but that doesn’t mean Iduna will survive childbirth.  It only means the _baby_ will.”  The King of Arendelle was teetering on the edge of a panic attack, and he didn’t even know the full extent of the prophecy; Iduna had never told him the rest.

At exactly that moment, the midwife burst through the chamber doors, having been summoned just after the doctor.  A portly, compassionate woman, Turid had attended births in the kingdom for over twenty years.  She was the best in the village, or so Agnarr had been told.  So he had hired her to attend the royal birth and it appeared she had been waiting on pins and needles for word that the queen was in labor.

Turid bustled in and made a beeline for the bed.

“There, there, Your Majesty, it’ll all be all right.  Let’s have a look at you, shall we?”  Turid lifted the bottom of Iduna’s nightdress and slid her hand beneath the fabric.  

Unused to anyone  (except the doctor, of course) touching his wife without express permission, Agnarr started to speak but caught himself.  Of course the midwife would have to examine that part of Iduna’s body.  He almost chucked at his own foolishness.  Where else would the baby come from?

For her part, Iduna didn’t even bat an eye when Turid began to examine her. 

“Ah,” Turid smiled.  “You’re doing very well, Your Majesty.  Progressing nicely.”  She glanced out the window at the mounting storm.  “My, what a tempest.”

Queen Iduna grabbed Turid’s hand.  “Listen to me,” she begged.  “This baby…”

“There’s something special about this baby,” Turid finished, patting the queen’s hand.

Iduna blinked in surprise.  “H-how did you know?”

The woman smiled.  “I’ve been at this a long time, my dear — please forgive me for calling you that, Your Majesty — and I can tell.  Magic? No matter.  You needn’t tell me.  I’m here to deliver you a baby and no more.”

“Magic,” Iduna whispered, falling back onto the pillows.  “She’s magic.”

“She?  Bless my soul, a little princess!” Turid clapped her hands in delight just as another intense pain gripped the queen and she shrieked along with the wind.  Turid bustled over to the king.  “Your Majesty, I cannot forbid you to remain in the room but I must warn you that childbirth is not for the faint of heart.  It is your decision whether or not you want to stay, but—”

“—I’m staying,” Agnarr interrupted.

“Very well then.”

And as the storm continued to gather strength outside, the queen’s contractions also gathered strength and intensity.  The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly for the king.  To the queen, however, time had ceased to exist.  Each wave piggy-backed on the last, throwing her end over end in an ocean of pain.  She was aware of very little except Turid’s kind blue eyes, the din of the storm and the feeling of being ripped in two from the bottom of her pelvis upwards.

“I can’t!” She cried out at one point.  “I can’t do it!”

“When you get to the point of saying that, Your Majesty, it means that you’re almost there,” Turid said kindly.  She quickly felt beneath the queen’s bedclothes again.  “It’s time to get this nightdress pulled up, My Queen.  Your daughter will be here shortly.”

Even in all their years of wedded bliss, King Agnarr had never seen his wife’s body displayed so openly.  With her nightdress bunched up above the swell of her belly, her whole lower half was completely exposed.  Despite the spasming of her stomach as her body prepared to bring a child into the world (the fact that this was a feat it was never supposed to perform did not escape Agnarr, adding to his anxiety about the whole thing) and the ashen color of her face, he still thought his wife to be the most lovely person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“What’s happening?” Iduna gasped as her belly suddenly became misshapen.  The end of her question turned into a strangled scream of pain.

Turid laid her soft, warm hand on the queen’s belly.  “That’s your body pushing without permission, love.  It’s time to push.  Your body is ready.”

Iduna’s blue eyes became wide with fear.  “No.. I-I can’t.. I’m not ready!”

Grasping the queen’s shaking hands in hers, Turid looked her square in the eye.  “You are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, sorry for the cliffy. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did NOT come willingly. I fought for every single paragraph! It's a bit shorter than the last ones but I hope it flows okay.

**Chapter 5**

 

In the village, some miles from the castle, the old witch sat in her parlor, gazing into a large bowl of murky water.  The potion she had poured in swirled around, blooming and flowing like smoke through the air.  The fire crackled merrily beside her; it was close to midnight.  The storm had been holding at a steady pace all day, some sleet and ice but nothing else.  Suddenly there was a shift in the air.

As the wind picked up outside, the water in the bowl began to swirl faster, the purplish-gray potion churning within it.  The witch’s eyes widened and she leaned closer, staring deeply into the cosmos held within the crystal bowl before her.

Swirling.

Whirling.

_Snow._

The wind gave a mighty shriek and blew the fire out.

“It’s time…” The witch murmured.  Her face split into a grin and her eyes danced wildly.  “It’s _time!”_

Forgetting herself and her age, the old witch catapulted out of her chair and began to dance around the parlor, nearly knocking the crystal bowl to the floor in her haste.  She burst through the front door, out into the squall.  

“IT’S TIME!” The old witch cried, although the wind entirely drowned out her voice.  She stretched her hands toward the sky, bony wrists showing as her sleeves fell towards her elbows.  Her numerous bracelets jangled in the harsh wind.

“Prepare yourself, Your Majesty!” She called out as though speaking directly to the queen.  Suddenly, she stopped, seeming to think of something.  “Wait a minute…”  

The old hag hustled back inside, closing the door against the howling wind and eddies.  She dropped back into her chair beside the crystal bowl.  The contents were now veritably roiling.  Placing her hands on the bowl, one on each side, the witch concentrated and stared into the depths.  Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on what the oracle was conveying.

After several seconds, the witch sat up straight in her chair and gasped.  In a low whisper she said, “It’s not over yet.”  Staring intently at the wall, the witch began to murmur another verse, similar in style to the one she had given the queen so many months ago.

 

_“The queen, upon the birthing bed,_

_Brings forth a child with hair of red._

_A loving heart and eyes of teal,_

_She shows the world that love is real._

_Only she - an angel, kind and warm -_

_Can calm the Snow Queen’s inner storm._

_Though fear brings wrath from sky above,_

_She holds the key within her: love.”_

 

With a mighty shriek, the storm blew itself out.  The old witch hurried to the window.  Outside, snow was falling silently in big, fluffy flakes.  Pulling a shawl on this time, the witch stepped out the front door once again.  She stared delightedly up at the gentle snowfall.  _Welcome to the world, little Princess,_ she thought.  The snowflakes twirled through the air as though they were tiny dancers sent from heaven itself to welcome the new baby.

In the distance, the witch heard the peal of bells.  It was an unusual tune - much different than the noon or Sunday bells.  It was the celebration air.  The heir to the Arendelle throne was born.  

* * *

 

The tiny princess’s magical powers became apparent almost immediately after her birth.  The wind died own the moment the baby came earth-side.  No sooner had Turid and Doctor Larsen helped the wriggling child slip from her mother into the world than several snow flurries burst to life in various parts of the room.  The new little soul gave an audible gasp and then opened her tiny mouth in a wail, setting the snow flurries alight with activity.

“There, there,” Turid soothed, wiping the newborn off with a soft cloth and wrapping her in a cozy blanket.  “It’s all right, little one.  That was a scary experience but it’s over now.”  

The midwife placed the child, wrapped snugly, onto Iduna’s chest.

“Hello there, my sweet little girl,” the queen said lovingly, staring at the bundle on her chest, unable to quite believe her eyes.  “Hello, princess.”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, the tiny girl’s cries died down just as suddenly as the wind had just moments earlier.  Her chin and lower lip trembled but her crying ceased and her eyes opened, staring directly into the queen’s.  Iduna gasped.  The baby’s eyes were as blue as a crystalline lake in the middle of summer.  Long lashes fluttered against the child’s cheeks as she blinked, trying to accustom herself to even the dim light in the room.  The baby’s skin was pale and soft as silk.  Iduna stroked her daughter’s cheek with the back of her finger.

“I love you,” she whispered to her new baby.  “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“The snow stopped,” Doctor Larsen said in an unusual voice.  

Iduna glanced out the window and was confused to find snowflakes still falling outside. 

“The snow _inside,_ ” the doctor amended.  He looked a bit shell shocked.

Only then did Iduna notice the snow drifts in the corners of the room.  She looked down at the baby cradled against her chest.  The little princess blinked back up at her with wide, innocent eyes.  

“You were frightened, weren’t you?” Iduna asked the baby.  “I never thought about what the birthing process must be like for _you._ ”  Bending forward awkwardly, the queen placed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.  

“Have you and His Majesty chosen a name for the princess?” Turid asked from near the foot of the bed as she gathered up cloths to help clean up after the birth.

The Queen of Arendelle stared at her daughter, awestruck.  “Elsa,” she murmured.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful princess.  We must pass the child off momentarily, My Queen,” Turid said apologetically, returning to the bedside once again.  “It’s time to deal with the afterbirth.”

Turid gently lifted the child from Iduna’s grasp, much to the queen’s dismay, and placed her into the waiting arms of a servant who had materialized several feet from the bedside.  Or maybe she’d been there the entire time, Iduna couldn’t be sure.

After the queen had passed the afterbirth and the doctor had checked her over, declaring her in as good of health as a new mother could be, the midwife helped Iduna clean up and change her clothes.  At this point, the new Princess of Arendelle made her presence known once again.

“I think she’s hungry,” Turid said as a light snow began to fall throughout the room, growing slightly stronger along with the decibel level of the baby’s cries.  “Would you like to try to nurse her, Your Majesty?  Or shall I make arrangements for a wet nurse?”

“I want to nurse her,” Iduna answered instantly.  It may not have been entirely commonplace for royal women — especially queens — to nurse their children but Iduna had waited _so very long_ to become a mother that she wasn’t going to give up _anything_ if she could help it.

Turid showed the queen how to get the child latched on and nursing properly.  “Your milk hasn’t come in fully, Your Majesty.  That can take a couple of days, but your body is still providing nutrients for her.”

Iduna stared down at the tiny baby, suckling contentedly, her little hands open and splayed against the skin of Iduna’s breast.  She looked up at Turid with tears in her eyes.  “I love her.”

The midwife smiled.  “I can see that.”

* * *

 

The calm was relatively short-lived, though.  That evening, wails rang out through the castle halls and the nursery had snow drifts piling up in every corner.  

“I don’t know what’s wrong!” Cried the frantic queen.  “She won’t stop crying!”

“Shall I call for the nanny?”  Agnarr was just as clueless as his wife was when it came to a squalling baby.  The newborn princess’s tiny hands were balled into fists and her face was beet red.  The snow in the nursery had started at the same instant the baby’s crying had, and had grown stronger right along with it.

“I don’t know!” Iduna wailed helplessly.  “I didn’t want to rely on the nanny!”

“It’s not relying on the nanny if she’s teaching us how to deal with… this!” The king said, speaking loudly to be heard over the baby’s cries.  The sight that met his eyes broke his heart: his beloved and exhausted wife cradling their newborn daughter in her arms, bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to calm the hysterical child to no avail.  The queen was pale and looked as though she was ready to drop any second. 

Willing to try anything, the King of Arendelle found himself gently taking the less-than-one-day-old child from his wife’s arms, awkwardly cradling her against his chest.  The baby screamed louder and the snow billowing in the corners began to swirl into miniature tornadoes.  

“Shh… shh…” Agnarr soothed, swaying back and forth while patting the child’s back.  “What’s the matter, hmm?  Do you know that I’m your father?”  He gently kissed the fine, feathery blonde hair on the top of the baby’s head and thought he heard her cries diminish slightly.  “I’m your Papa and I love you, little Elsa.”

The king continued to rock and sway around the room and soon the small movements turned into sashaying motions.  “Shall we dance?” He asked his wee one.  Making sure to hold his hand over the back of her head and neck to keep her in place, he executed a clumsy but complete twirl.  The princess’s cries receded into occasional hiccups and whimpers and her blue eyes started to flutter closed.  The miniature snowstorms in the corners of the nursery began to dissipate.

Iduna leaned against one wall of the nursery, eyes wide, staring at the scene before her.  Stately, regal and poised, King Agnarr of Arendelle was _dancing_ around the nursery with their newborn baby daughter.  Iduna wondered how much bigger her heart could swell before it would burst.

“She’s asleep,” Agnarr whispered as he waltzed past Iduna a few moments later.  Sure enough, their little girl was fast asleep against her father’s shoulder, a tiny spot of drool forming on the lapels of his jacket.  The baby’s long eyelashes feathered against her cheeks and she sighed in her sleep.

On his next pass, Agnarr whispered more urgently, “help! How do I get her into the crib?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen the King and Queen of Arendelle's names spelled a bunch of different ways, so I just chose one for each and went with it. I have no idea what their names "actually" are. :)


End file.
